Haven
by Ava Cabot
Summary: “The physical pain I was feeling had nothing on the words that came out of the Fed’s mouth: I was leaving New York forever.” Loss fic, with spoilers.


Ava Cabot

Haven

A Law and Order: SVU fic

Disclaimer: I'm rich. I so own Alex Cabot. mental smack Okay, fine, I don't. 

A/N: Loss fic. "The physical pain I was feeling had nothing on the words that came out of the Fed's mouth: I was leaving New York forever."

----

_I woke up from my sleep to the sound of that voice,  
From the words that I heard I had no choice.  
They told me I had to turn around,  
My assurance slowly faded down.  
Will I ever make it home?  
Will I ever leave the ground?  
Leave this place so far behind.  
The plans that I had were quickly destroyed,  
The problem was one I couldn't avoid.  
Will I ever make it home,  
To the place I recognize.  
Far from here and where I've been,  
And all the places that I've been shown.  
Will I ever make it home?  
Can they keep me here for good?  
Where I hardly know a soul,  
And my fear keeps going on.  
My weariness keeps growing inside,  
My patience is starting to subside.  
Will I ever make it home?  
Will I ever leave the ground?  
Leave this place so far behind,  
Till there is no turning back.  
Will I ever make it home?  
Get to where I wanna be,  
Find the ones who wait for me.  
To the place where I belong,  
Will I ever make it home?_

_Will I Ever Make It Home: Ingram Hill_

----

Pain rippled through my body as I struggled to open my eyes, which still seemed to weigh heavier than two tons of lead. Vaguely, I could hear the bustling of bodies around me. I assumed that Olivia and Elliot were there, panicking, alongside Cragen, Munch, and Fin. I desperately hoped it was them, at least. The first thing I needed beside me was my best friends. Then I could recover in peace. That's how it always happens.

I could barely remember anything of the shooting. It was just like in the movies, one minute I was walking with Olivia and Elliot, the next I was lying here. What I would probably later find out is what happened in between the shooting scene and arriving at the hospital, wherever I was. I assumed I was still in Manhattan, surrounded by my best friends, who were waiting for me to open my eyes and relieve their fears. They were waiting for me. Maybe I should try to wake up, for their sake.

A brisk voice rang through my head suddenly, sending painful sound waves through my head. If I could have opened my mouth, I would have politely screamed for them to stop speaking. Silently my head throbbed, weighing down the rest of me like a dead weight. That didn't sound like anyone I remotely knew, though. Why was a stranger in my room? Why wasn't Olivia or Elliot telling them to get the hell out of my room?

"Open your eyes, Ms. Cabot."

That definitely wasn't Cragen, or someone I knew. What was going on?

Quickly I opened my eyes. The sudden effort sent more waves of stinging, throbbing pain through every inch of my body, as the fuzzy image of a pale, suited man filled my eyesight. Who the hell was he?

"You're not Cragen," I croaked wearily, my mouth moving slowly. My words were slurred, even sluggish, but I had just been shot, damn it, and poor speech could probably be excused.

The suit cracked a smile. "Don Cragen? No, I'm not, ma'am."

Who the hell called women ma'am anymore? Who the hell was this guy, anyway? And why the hell was he wearing a suit in the middle of the night? God, I was cranky. Getting shot and not seeing your friends when you wake up can do that to a person. My manners went right out the window after I painfully opened my eyes.

"Then who are you?" Injured and pissed as I was, I needed to maintain some politeness. If I was in danger again, maybe it could save my life.

Yeah, right.

"Special Agent Evans, at your service." 

"Special Agent? Are you a Fed like Donovan?"

"Yes ma'am." My God, did he always address women as ma'am?

"Why are the Feds here?"

"You'll be filled in on everything soon, ma'am."

"I have a name," I snapped quietly, closing my eyes and sinking back into the soft hospital pillow. Now I was desperate—I needed to see Olivia and Elliot.

I heard the door creak open quickly, with the rustling of another suit telling me that it wasn't just Agent Evans and me anymore.

"Is she conscious?" snapped the voice, a brisk female this time. "She'd better be, Evans, or it's your head. We need to speak to her _now_."

"She's awake, but resting now," answered Evans nervously. Geez, this woman seemed like a hard-core asshole already, and I hadn't even caught a glance of her yet. But then again, why would I want to open my eyes? Lying in this semi-conscious state was much more comfortable than being awake, definitely.

A hard hand rudely jostled my head awake. "You need to wake up, Ms. Cabot. Now." Damn it, why were they waking me up? I need to rest. All shot people need to rest. Why weren't they letting me rest?

Out of reflex my eyes flew open again, this time accompanied by spots flashing around my vision, nearly blinding me in a damning, Technicolor flurry.

"Go away," I snarled wearily. "I wanna rest." Damn right I wanted to rest. I'd been shot, for God's sake. Didn't all gunshot victims get some privacy, at least, in which to recuperate? I guess I wasn't that lucky. I got to be awakened by Feds every few seconds. How special am I?

"Valez obviously didn't take away your biting wit," said the female, sandwiching herself between my bed and Agent Evans. Uninvited she sat on the bed edge, her dark eyes beginning to bore into me. I was getting very sick of these agents.

"What does Cesar Valez have to do with this?" I was surprised that she was in on the whole Valez-wants-the-ADA-dead situation. I thought that Donovan was the only person involved. Guess I was deadly wrong. I shivered. Maybe that was the wrong expression.

"He tried to kill you, Ms. Cabot." Well thanks for being so helpful, but I already knew that.

"Thank you for the enlightening piece of information. I already knew that he wants me dead, though."

"Are you always this sarcastic?"

"When my body's screaming with pain, yes, I tend to be a little sardonic."

"Do you always answer questions with sarcastic answers?"

"Do you deflect sarcastic answers with questions?"

"I'm Special Agent Ridley, Ms. Cabot," she replied tightly, "And you'll be working with me for sometime. I suggest we start getting along very quickly."

"Where's Evans? I liked him better."

Agent Evans allowed himself a small smile in the corner of my room. Ridley, on the other hand, didn't seem amused at all. Guess she didn't like to laugh—or allow humor into her life—much.

"It's a good thing you still have your sense of humor, Ms. Cabot. You'll need it...for later."

"For later? When I get discharged and haul my ass back to the 1-6?" Later? I assumed that would be in a few days. The worst I was imagining was having a group of Feds trail me for awhile, with me nursing an ugly scar wound on my chest.

Evans and Ridley glanced nervously at each other. Something was definitely going on that they were determined to keep me in the dark about.

"Someone's not telling me something," I remarked dryly. "What's the big secret?"

"Can't say yet," said Ridley sharply. "We'll tell you after the doctor comes back with your tests."

"Tests?"

"You were shot pretty badly," ventured Evans. Thanks for pointing out the obvious, I thought sarcastically.

"Shut up," hissed Ridley.

"Sorry, ma'am," he said meekly, shrinking back into his corner. That man was a coward, no doubt.

"Still with us, Cabot?" said Ridley, ignoring her humbled colleague. "Try to stay awake until the doctor comes back."

Easy for her to say. She wasn't lying here, almost immobilized by the numbing pain, wondering what in hell's name was going on around her. Why was I the one who wasn't being informed? In all my years of being an ADA, I knew that informing the victim usually helped the criminal catching process, instead of hampering it.

Unsteadily I rolled over to my side, staring vacantly at the closed door and the dull wallpaper pattern. I could hear faint voices outside in the hallway, wondering if Olivia, Elliot and the rest of the squad would come see me anytime soon.

It was the scream that shook me.

I could feel the scream vibrate through me, as I instantly recognized the voice. Olivia was screaming outside. Olivia was here, meaning that everyone else was standing outside. Where was she? Why was she screaming?

Another question was beginning to weigh heavily on my mind—why weren't they coming inside?

"...She can't be dead! You're lying..."

Dead? Who was dead? I couldn't be dead! I was still lying here, breathing and making snide comments!

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ridley shove Evans towards the door. "Go quiet them," she whispered, "But don't let them inside. It's important—go!"

"What the hell is going on?" I demanded, trying as best I could to prop myself up. "Why aren't you letting my friends in?"

"We told them that you're dead," she snapped fiercely. Immediately she covered her mouth, eyes widening as though she had revealed a terrible secret. A knot in my stomach tightened even further, as another wave of pain swept through at high speed.

Grave silence met her tactless remark. A dull ache began to spread through me, as her words rang throughout my head. "Dead?" I answered in a hollow voice. "You told my best friends that I was _dead_?"

"We had to," she spat out. "Why do you think we haven't been letting your visitors in? Why do you think Federal Agents are guarding your room?"

I tried to shrug. "Because I'm special?" I needed to make sense of the situation. But how could I when I was more lost and confused than I had ever been in my life?

"Oh, don't be so sarcastic!" Her eyes flashed at me dangerously. "To the rest of the world, Alexandra Cabot died by that gunshot wound. To the world, you are dead."

"But I'm still here, smart-ass."

"That's because you're being shipped off to the Program as soon as you can travel?"

"Travel?" I was going on a road trip? For how damn long?

"You're leaving New York. Tonight, if we can manage it."

"Where am I going?"

"We'll tell you when we can."

"I'm the one being shipped off, dammit, so tell me where the hell I'm going."

"I can't."

"Do it, or I'll start screaming that I'm alive."

"You do that and I'll kill you myself."

"That's not very nice to say to a victim."

"You're dead, remember?"

"No way. I want to see Olivia and Elliot."

"Detectives Benson and Stabler? You can't."

"Why the hell not? I'll hold my breath and pretend I'm dead. Just let them see me."

Evans came back into the room, skittering past my bed and closing the door quickly. "They've left."

"Get them back!" That was me.

"No." Ridley, the cold-hearted bitch, cut me off. "Thank you, Evans. Go out and see what's taking the damn doctor so long."

"Already checked in with him, ma'am. Ms. Cabot needs to stay overnight for observation, but can leave tomorrow if we swear to take more than excellent care of her." Apparently the doctor was in on the whole Fed thing. Maybe he was a Fed.

"Can't we take her tonight?"

"No, ma'am, the doctor wants to make sure the wound starts to heal properly before we move."

"I'm not going anywhere until I see Olivia and Elliot," I said stubbornly. But my words seemed to fall on deaf ears, as both agents ignored me.

"We could have them meet us somewhere safe before we left," started Evans hesitantly. I didn't blame him for treading lightly—his boss was definitely volatile. I wouldn't want to cross her.

"And risk having Valez and his network catch us? You're dreaming, Evans."

"Come on, she's leaving everyone she knows behind."

"She'll be back someday."

Someday? That word scarred my skin, settling a series of dull aching throughout my body. Everything came crashing down in my mind, as I reached a weak hand towards both agents.

"Someday?" I whispered, grabbing Ridley's suit sleeve as tightly as I could. "What the hell do you mean, someday?"

She whirled on me, setting my hand back down by my side. "You can't stay in New York, Ms. Cabot. You're life is in worse than serious danger. You could be killed at any moment."

"I can't leave," I said hoarsely.

"You have to."

"Don't I even get a choice?" All free people had choices. I could decide if I wanted to leave or stay and risk my life.

"No." 

Sheesh, what ever happened to my rights as an American citizen? I guess they flew out the door when Valez tried to kill me for real this time.

"Fuck I'll go." That settled it. I was going to be as mean and nasty as I could—maybe it would keep me here for a little longer.

"Don't be difficult, Ms. Cabot."

"I'll be as difficult as I want, god dammit."

"You don't want to die, do you?"

"I'd rather die here than be shipped away in the night."

"You don't have a choice in the matter. This is a Federal case, and you're being placed in the Witness Protection Program."

"The Program?"

"Yes."

I was getting placed in the Program, just like that. One person tries to kill me, and the Feds are determined to send me away from everything I know and love. Maybe if I were a little more lucid the solution would have made sense. But for now, in the present, I sure as hell wasn't going anywhere.

"I want to see my friends."

Ridley sighed loudly, clearly growing weary of my constant request. "You can't," she explained tiredly. "For the last time, you are dead to them."

"Just for a minute. I need to say goodbye. You can't deny me that, can you?"

"I—"

"Ah, come on, ma'am. Let her say goodbye." Evans, the man with no spine, had finally jumped to my defense. God bless him for that much.

"Are you questioning me, Evans?" demanded Ridley, fixing a malevolent glare on her shaking colleague.

Ridley had him shaking all over now. "Am I, ma'am?"

"Damn it, are you saying we should just disobey orders and take Ms. Cabot to see those detectives?"

"Ma'am?"

Ridley let out an angry moan, sinking on the corner of my bed. I stared at her irritably, hoping I looked as dangerous and fierce as she did. I felt like absolute shit, but I couldn't show that, not now. Pain, nearly blinding me like a thousand needles, seemed to penetrate through every inch of me. I wanted so badly to scream and let go of everything I was feeling.

"Fine," she said softly. "I'll call Donovan and set it up."

----

The hospital, though reluctant to discharge me so soon after such a fatal wound, had let me go that afternoon. During the rest of the time, I slept and only woke when necessary. I knew Evans had been sent to my apartment, still blocked off, to gather everything I would need. I made him promise that the only people to enter and touch anything would be Olivia or Elliot. No one else.

I drifted out sleep fitfully for hours, never seeming to find a comfortable place where I could lie and not move. What I wanted most was to fall into a comatose sleep and never wake up. At least then I could have stayed in Manhattan.

The dreams I had were scarce, but the nightmares were plentiful. When I shot up in bed it hurt, my body aching and hurting in ways I never thought possible. Each nightmare followed the same idea, with each one ending in the exact same way.

I always saw Olivia and Elliot right in front of me...too far to reach, but still so close to me. Every time I tried to reach them, someone pulled me back. I could hear Valez laughing crazily in the background. I screamed and clawed at whoever was holding back, but they never let go. I slowly watched the two people I cared about the most disappear out of my life forever.

After I woke up and was discharged, I tried to make sense of how I had managed to convince Ridley to my side. Something made her bitchy, hard-as-nails exterior crack, and she somehow convinced Donovan to schedule my departure meeting with Olivia and Elliot.

The plan was that they needed to discuss some details of the case over with them. I would be waiting in the car, where Donovan would let me have a few precious minutes alone with the two. There, I could say my goodbyes, dish out my will, plan for the future that we would hopefully have if I returned...

If I returned...

Those words were beginning to haunt me more and more. It was only after the pain-numbing drugs had started to kick in that my mind had wandered to other subjects. The reality of leaving everything behind had finally hit me, hard. I didn't want to believe that what the agents had been telling me was true. It couldn't be. They couldn't take me away forever.

Could they?

"No funny stuff, okay?" Ridley had turned around from the front seat of the car, glaring at me. Yeah, she was back to normal.

"Funny stuff? That's not even in my mental dictionary," I replied cheerfully.

"I mean it, Ms. Cabot."

"I do too. Don't they say that blondes have a small verbal dictionary anyways?"

Ridley snarled one final time before turning around and leaving me to my thoughts. Thank goodness for small favors.

"They're here," whispered Evans from the back seat, tapping me on the shoulder.

My heart jumped a few beats, as I watched Donovan slip out of the car and slam the door shut behind him. It was the moment of truth, it seemed. All my greatest fears were beginning to culminate within me, as the anticipation of seeing my best friends one last time laid before me. I would never see them again.

Angrily I wiped my tears away, rubbing them off on the scarf I had absently tied on at the last minute. I didn't want the agents to see me cry.

I could hear Donovan talking to Olivia and Elliot outside, quietly, calmly, explaining things that they thought to be true, was not. I couldn't predict exactly how they would take the news that I was going into the Program, indefinitely probably.

Donovan's dark silhouette approached my side door, swinging it open to prove that what he said was true. And there I sat, still trying not to cry.

Olivia gasped softly when she saw me, Elliot trying to support her in his arms. The looks of shock and absolute sorrow on their faces tore at me. I struggled with hundreds of emotions, trying to think of something eloquent but meaningful to leave them with.

"This is goodbye, isn't it?" I said softly, reaching my good arm out to them.

"When will you be back?" asked Olivia, her eyes swelling with tears. "Soon?"

I shrugged carefully, internally wincing at the action. "I don't know."

"There's no other way?" Elliot suggested gently.

"No. I've got to leave."

It didn't seem like I myself was talking anymore. The words I was saying had a robotic tone to them, as if I were repeating lines I had been forced to memorize and speak.

"We'll miss you," she choked out.

"I know."

Olivia was the first to move in and hug me, touching the back of my head and clamping on tightly to my back. If she could, she'd never let go.

But eventually, after what seemed like seconds to me and hours to Donovan, she let go. Elliot leaned in too, but I couldn't look him in the eye like I did Olivia.

"I'll never—we'll never forget you," she said, amending her words quickly.

"I love you guys."

"We love you too."

Elliot caught Olivia, as she stumbled back away from the car. Donovan coughed quietly in the background, moving towards us silently.

"It's time to go," he said.

"I'll be back," I said hoarsely, as Donovan rested his hand on the door.

"We know," said Elliot, clasping Olivia tightly to him.

"Goodbye."

Donovan shut the door before I could them anymore. Instantly I burst into tears, hidden away from the two people I loved most by gun-proof glass windows, tinted so no one could see me. I cried and cried, wondering if I'd ever get over this separation from them, my job, and my life.

The door to my life as Alex Cabot was closed now, and would remain so until I could return home. I hoped that would be very soon. I don't think that I could take years of being away from everything.

Tomorrow, the agents would present me with a new name and identity. I'd play a role in the Program until I was deemed safe to come back to New York. I would be trapped in that role, never being able to reveal who I really was. Screwing up could be the last mistake I'd make.

There were so many unspoken words between the person I wanted to say a longer farewell to and I. There was a lot I wanted to say that I couldn't in the presence of others.

Most of all, I wanted to say that I loved him, how I'd wanted to plan a future with him. And that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.

The car started up, Donovan driving stoically at the wheel. We pulled away from the secluded area, and I dared myself to turn around and wave goodbye, even with knowing that they couldn't see me.

I'm sorry John. I never got to tell you what I wanted to say.

I'll miss you the most.

----

A/N: Wow. I'm actually extremely proud of the fic, the first Loss fic I've written since Rain and Love Isn't Protection Enough. Throughout the whole fic, I wasn't sure if I wanted this to be an A/O or A/M. But I decided at the end to go with A/M. A/O would've been a little too obvious. So...what do you think? Go review and say!

Ava


End file.
